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Authors: Mariah Stewart

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance: Modern, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance

Coming Home (37 page)

BOOK: Coming Home
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“Don’t tell me how far it is from the car to there, okay? We’ll let it be a surprise.” She wiggled her toes inside her new hiking boots and hoped they’d feel as comfortable when they finished as they did right at that moment.

    No such luck.

The parking lot was at the end of a road, and the trail picked up to the right and across some old railroad tracks. There was a kiosk with some liability waivers to sign and some trail maps. They signed the forms and Grady studied the map, then turned to Vanessa and asked, “Ready?”

“Sure.” She looked around the area, which was nicely wooded and smelled fresh and green and didn’t appear to be too bad.

They walked along the trail through peaceful woodlands. At one point, Grady stopped and said, “There’s an old cemetery off that way. How about we check it out? Or would you rather do that on the way back?”

“On the way back,” she answered, a bit too quickly. She wasn’t sure how far four and a half miles would be and the trails appeared to be a bit rustic, with some fallen trees to walk over or around.

The trail ran along streams where there were small waterfalls, and while the man-made bridges were deteriorated, there were rocks to follow across the water. It was beautiful and quiet, but the trails were beginning to lead upward. After a particularly steep ascent, Vanessa was finding it harder and harder to catch her breath.

“Are you all right?” Grady asked from time to time, and she’d nod and say, “Yes. I’m fine. Sure.”

But by the time they reached the outcrop of rocks that marked the ridge, she was panting and couldn’t wait to sit.

“And my feet hurt,” she told Grady.

“Well, here, sit down and rest for a few minutes and let’s enjoy this spectacular view.” She started to sit and he said, “Wait.”

He inspected the rock and the terrain off to both sides.

“What?” She frowned.

“I just wanted to make sure there were no rattlesnakes sunning themselves where you were about to plant your butt.”

He sat and held a hand up to her to help her down.

“That was your idea of a joke, I hope. Though it wasn’t really very funny …”

“No.” He shook his head and opened his backpack. “No joke. I don’t make jokes about poisonous snakes.”

“You mean, there really are rattlesnakes around here?” She cast dubious glances at the ground.

“Sure. You’re in the woods.” He looked up and saw her uncertainty. “It’s okay. I checked. It’s safe.”

She sat but looked uncomfortable.

“So how do you feel?” he asked.

“Seriously?” She looked up at him and he nodded. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, thirsty, and I do not like snakes.”

“Other than that, what do you think of the view?”

“It’s beautiful,” she admitted.

She looked out across a green valley. Overhead a hawk circled, and in the trees somewhere behind them, a bird was singing. “I do understand why people like to do this. Other people, though, not necessarily me.”

He took off his backpack, opened it, and handed her a bottle of water.

“Don’t drink it too quickly,” he warned. “Just sip it.”

She did her best not to chug it. It was lukewarm but tasted wonderful. Amazing how good water can taste when you are truly thirsty.

“And look, Ness.” He pointed off to her right and grabbed her hand. “That’s a bald eagle. Look at the wingspread …”

“Oh.” She stared at the huge bird that had soared up from below the rocks. “I’ve never seen one that close. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one at all. It’s … it’s breathtaking.”

They watched it rise, then glide across the valley.

“That was a moment.” She smiled up at him. “One I will remember for a long time.”

“Good.” He squeezed her hand. “Now, are you ready for lunch?”

“Oh my God, I thought you’d never ask.” She leaned back on her elbows and held her face up to the sun.

“Here you go.” He put something in her hand.

She opened her eyes and looked down.

“Normally, I’d be the last person to turn down a candy bar,” she told him, “but I’m starving and I need real food, so I hope you have something fabulous in that backpack of yours.”

“It’s not a candy bar, it’s an energy bar. And it
is
lunch.”

“This”—she held up the wrapped bar—“is
lunch?
I walked for two hours and this is all I get?”

He nodded calmly.

“See all the good stuff it has in it?” He turned the bar over and pointed to the list of ingredients but she appeared not to notice. He shrugged, then unwrapped his bar, took a bite, and began to chew. “It’s really good. Honest. I take them out on the trail with me all the time.”

“Why don’t we have real food?”

“Because it’s easier, more convenient, and certainly lighter in weight. You’re getting all that your body needs between the nutrition in the bar and the water.”

She continued to stare at him.

Finally she said, “Grady, do you remember when we were making cookies at my house before the wedding?”

“Sure.”

“And you said that Mia didn’t know you had a job and if I promised not to tell her that you’d buy my silence—your words—with anything I wanted?”

“Right.”

“Well, I never told her, so the offer is still good. I mean, it’s still open, right?”

“Uh-huh.” He took another bite. If he was worried about where this was leading, it didn’t show.

“And it was
anything
I wanted, right?”

“That was the deal.”

“Here.” She held out her energy bar. “You’re going to need it.”

“Why?” He frowned and took the last bite of his.

“Because I know what I want.”

“I always pay up. Go ahead. What is it?”

“I want you to carry me down off this damned mountain and buy me a burger.”

Diary

What a week this has been! First, Harbor Fest was a rousing success! There were so many people pouring into town that Chief Beck had to set out some hastily prepared signs directing people away from the docks and down to the park. The mayor said if this keeps up all summer, we’re going to need to hire more police just to direct traffic. Daniel’s thinking about investing in a van to use as a shuttle between the Inn and the town so that his guests don’t have to drive their cars to shop or visit the historic sites where they’d have to fight to park
.

Who’d have thought that one day those old houses and churches up on the square would be considered “historic”? Heh
.

I must say there are some happy merchants on Charles Street, though. Lots of visitors mean lots of shoppers and diners
.

Now this is the big news, and personally gratifying to me: Grady Shields is back in St. Dennis! I saw him in Cuppachino on Friday where he was picking up lunch to take to Vanessa at Bling because she was too busy to leave the shop. Isn’t that sweet? I asked him if he was just visiting for the weekend and he said he thought he’d be staying longer than that. Then he said he wanted to come down to the paper
later to take out an ad for his wilderness guide services because he’s thinking of offering some hiking and camping tours in the Appalachians
.

Well, you can imagine what was going through my mind at that moment!

Yes, of course, I secretly rejoiced that I’d remembered the right words in the right sequence and that I did find all the proper herbs. I’d have felt simply terrible if I’d turned that handsome young man into a toad
.

Of course, it’s possible that this extremely promising development had nothing to do with me … that Vanessa and Grady would have gotten back together on their own, and that the little ritual in which I’d engaged on their behalf was really nothing, after all, but words whispered while burning some smelly old vegetation
.

I, however, like to think that the old girl still has it
.


Grace

Read on for a preview of the next novel in the Chesapeake Diaries series by Mariah Stewart
Home Again

Available in Fall 2010 from Ballantine Books

AT the precise moment Dallas MacGregor was picking up her son, Cody, from school, the home video starring her soon-to-be-ex-husband and two of his female production assistants had already been uploaded to the Internet. By the time she arrived at her gated Hollywood Hills home—she’d stopped once on the way from the set of her latest movie promo shoot to pick up dinner—the five-thousandth viewing had already been downloaded.

The phone was on overdrive when she walked into her kitchen.

“Miss MacGregor, you have many messages. Two from your aunt Beryl.” Elena, her housekeeper, cast a wary glance at Cody and handed her employer a stack of pink slips. “Something about Mr. Emilio …”

“Would you mind answering that?” Dallas slid the heavy paper bag onto the counter. “And why are you still here? I thought you had to leave by four?”

“Yes, miss, I …” Elena lifted the receiver. “Miss MacGregor’s … oh, hello, Miss Townsend. Yes, she’s home now, she just arrived. Yes, I gave her the message but … of course, Miss Townsend …”

Elena held the phone out to Dallas.

“It’s your great-aunt,” she whispered.

“I figured that out.” Dallas smiled and took the cordless receiver from Elena. “Hello, Aunt Berry. I was just thinking about …”

“Dallas.” Her aunt cut her off sharply. “What the hell is going on out there?”

“Not much.” Dallas paused. “What’s supposed to be going on?”

“That numbskull you were married to.” Berry’s breath came in ragged puffs.

She was obviously in a lather over something. Not unusual, Dallas thought. At eighty-one, it didn’t take much to rile her aunt these days.

“What’s he done now?” Dallas began emptying the bag, lining up the contents on the counter.

“Not
what
as much as
who.”
Berry was becoming increasingly agitated.

“Mommy.” Cody tugged at her sleeve. “Why are all those cars out there?”

“Berry, hold on for just a moment, please.” Dallas glanced out the side window. There were cars lined up on the other side of the fence, cars that had not been there five minutes ago when they pulled through the gates. It wasn’t especially unusual for paparazzi to follow her home, but she hadn’t noticed any cars following her today. She raised the blinds just a little, and saw more cars pulling up even as she watched.

“I don’t know, Cody. Maybe the studio put out something about Mommy’s new movie. Maybe we should turn on the television and see.”

“No!” Elena and Berry both shouted at the same time.

“What?” Dallas frowned and turned to her housekeeper, who stood behind Cody. She pointed to the child, then raised her index finger to her lips, their silent code for
not in front of Cody
.

“Berry, why don’t you tell me …?”

“Are you saying you don’t know? Seriously?”

“Know what?”

“That idiot ex of yours …”

“Not ex yet, but soon, please God …” Dallas muttered. “And it’s long been established that he’s an idiot.”

“… managed to get himself filmed doing … all sorts of things that you will not want Cody to see …” Berry was almost gasping. “… with more than one person. It was disgusting. Perverted.”

“You mean …” Dallas’s knees went weak and she sat in the chair that Elena wisely pulled out for her.

“Yes. A sex tape. Not one, but
two
young women. I was shocked. Appalled!”

“Wait! You actually
saw
it?”

“Three times!” Dallas could almost see Berry fanning herself. “It was vile, just vile! You know, Dallas, that I never liked that man. I told you when you first brought him home that I …”

“Berry, where did you see this?”

“On my computer. There was a link to a site …”

“Hold on for a moment, Berry.” Dallas put her hand over the mouthpiece and turned to Elena. “Would you mind cutting up an apple for Cody? Cody, go wash your hands so you can have your snack.”

After her son left the room, Dallas took the phone outside and sat at one of the tables around the pool.

“Dear God, Berry, let me get this straight. Emilio made a sex tape and it was put on the Internet? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes, and not just any sex tape. This one had …”

“Wait a minute, they allowed you to download the whole thing?”

“No, no, not all of it, just a little bit. You had to pay if you want to see the whole thing.”

“And you did? You paid to watch …” Dallas didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The thought of her elderly aunt watching Emilio and his latest conquests burning up the sheets was horrifying and crazy funny at the same time. “Wait—did you say
three times?

“Yes, and it was …”

“Berry, why did you watch it three times?”

“Well,” Berry sniffed. “I had to make sure it was really him.”

The rest of the evening went downhill from there.

Dallas made every attempt to remain calm lest Cody pick up on the fact that she was almost blind with anger at the man she’d been married to for seven years.

Seven years, she repeated to herself. Seven years out of my life, wasted on that reprobate. The only good thing to come out of those years was Cody—and Dallas had to admit that she’d have weathered a lifetime of Emilio’s amorous flings and general foolishness if she’d had to in order to have her son. When she filed for divorce three months ago, following the latest in Emilio’s long line of infidelities, he hadn’t even bothered to beg her to reconsider: they’d done that dance so often over the years that even he was tired of it.

She managed to have a normal evening with Cody and ignored the cars that parked beyond their protective fence. They had a nice dinner and watched a video together, then Cody had his bath and Dallas read a bedtime story before she tucked him in and turned off the light.

It wasn’t until she went back downstairs, alone, that she permitted herself to fall apart.

There was no love lost between her and Emilio. She’d long since accepted the fact that he’d married her strictly to further his own career. For a time, she’d bought into that, insisting that her husband be signed to direct her movies, and for a time, she’d been blind to his affairs. Lately it had occurred to her that she well might be the last person in the entire state of California to catch on to Emilio’s faithlessness.

BOOK: Coming Home
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ads

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